Celeste
by jrwilson
Summary: As a bad girl fights to win a crown, she finds a kingdom and a prince as less then worthy prizes... As a prince seeks love, he confides too much to a girl he should not trust... As a young rebel leader fights to gain access to a palace, he finds an unlikely ally...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Celeste**

Celeste stretched her arms upwards in a ballerina pose, arched her back, and put just the right pout into her lower lip.

"No, no, no," the photographer barked. "She won't do at all." He turned to one of his crew. "We have to get another girl. This one isn't editorial enough. Find me a blonde and make sure she doesn't look she's just binged on candy and cake."

Celeste watched as her agent, Missie, crept over to the photographer and whispered something in his ear.

"I don't care who her parents are!"

Celeste's pout turned into a frown and she dropped her arms. Her agent came over to her and put an arm around her back, in an attempt at comfort.

"Don't touch me," she hissed at Missie. "This is all your fault."

"Oh dear..."

After stalking off into the dressing room and changing out of the horrifically uncomfortable wool shift, and throwing it onto the marble floor, Celeste fell into one of the plush red velvet lounge chairs. She would not cry. She would not. This was her fifth shoot this month to fall apart. She hadn't told her parents. She hadn't told her friends. How could she? It was so embarrassing. She was a two. Success was supposed to fall into her lap. Success was her birthright. Wasn't it?

Celeste moved over to the full-length mirror and stared at her reflection. She wasn't fat. She turned to check out her profile. She didn't look fat, but she didn't look emaciated either. She followed a careful diet, but did splurge a bit more frequently then she ought. She sucked in her stomach. It didn't help. Damn it. If they wanted a starving waif they should drag an eight out of the slums and take pictures of her.

She pulled her designer bag out of her locker and threw out the half eaten chocolate bar. She'd have to try harder.

Her cell phone buzzed, jarring her into action.

"Cellie, where are you?"

"Nowhere important. Where are you?"

"I'm at my house. You will never believe what came in the mail..." Her friend, Ani, said, a breathless tone to her voice.

Celeste took a deep breath. There was only one thing that would warrant Ani exhibiting anything but perfect calm. "Are you serious?"

"I'm completely serious."

"It seemed like it would never happen..."

"I know."

"Alright I'm going home now. I want to hold it in my hands and read every word, and soak up my future."

"Wait. You should know. I heard, that they're going to take pictures, when we register for the selection. And those pictures are going to pretty much decide whether we get picked."

"We?"

"Okay, you."

"You sure you're not going to register?"

"Well, I won't lie. As I read the letter, I was tempted. But... Well you know why I can't."

"Yes. I do. Remember that," Celeste warned her best friend. "Because I will be extremely unhappy if I find out that you've registered behind my back. Maxon is mine."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Registration**

Celeste fingered the thick vellum of the letter in her pocket for the hundredth time.

She'd spent the last few days calling in every favor and every threat she had garnered over her eighteen years to ensure that the most eligible and beautiful girls in Illea didn't register for the selection. And for the girls who wouldn't budge with favors or threats, she resorted to bribes and in a few cases she even had to arrange accidents. She hated dirtying her hands this way, but what choice did she have. She kept her efforts focused on the twos and threes. The fours and below would be at such a disadvantage due to their low birth, that they would invariably cull themselves. She focused mostly on the girls in Clermont, but had pulled some strings in the other districts. Of course, she couldn't clear the field completely. She knew that. She wasn't stupid. Some desirable girls would slip through the cracks. Therefore she still had to stack the deck in her favor.

She had hired a writer to help her fill out the questionnaire. She had hired a stylist to select just the right dress. She had hired a make up artist and hair stylist to embellish her natural beauty. Creating the appearance of sweet, innocent, sexy allure that could capture the heart of a prince was no minor task and she had spent a small fortune painting herself as the perfect daughter of Illea. Nothing was going to prevent her from attaining her goal.

As she stepped out of the car, in front of the town hall, she grimaced at the line of girls that stretched along the length of the building. They should arrange a separate registration for important girls. She shouldn't have to wait here amongst this rabble. She sighed. It was too late to complain now.

"I'll call when this dog and pony show is over," she told Roberts, her driver.

"Yes, ma'am."

She hated that he called her ma'am, it made her feel like an old lady, but Roberts was set in his ways.

Most of the other girls had their mothers in tow. The mothers seemed more excited then the girls as they discussed the days of Queen Amberly's selection. Celeste felt overwhelmed by the incessant chatter. It would have been nice if her mother would have accompanied her, but her mother was on set. Her mother was always on set.

"Celeste," a girl waved to her from the crowd.

"Mirrium, dear, why don't you join me?"

Mirrium pursed her lips, clearly unhappy about giving up her position in line, but unwilling to deny a direct request.

Mirrium was obese, with the beginnings of a mustache, but she was a two, therefore she was an acceptable acquaintance, although a distasteful one.

Mirrium gave up her place and moved next to Celeste. "Can you believe it? I've been here for an hour, and I think we're the only twos in line. Isn't that strange?"

Celeste lips turned up in a secret smile. "You're very astute Mirrium. I must say, I don't often give you proper credit."

"Um, thanks," Mirrium squeaked. "I'm so excited. It would be amazing to be selected. Maxon's so handsome. I'll just die if he kisses me."

"I doubt you would die." And she doubted he'd kiss Mirrium.

They spoke of little things: gossip and movies and magazines, as the line slowly dwindled. Celeste didn't tell Mirrium that there would be a photographer inside. She thought it would be more amusing to see the dejection in Mirrium's eyes when the girl realized that her chances of being selected had slipped away. Mirrium's only chance was a random selection. Mirrium just wasn't pretty enough. And the picture meant that the selection wasn't random. It would be funny to see the girl's heart break.

By the time they entered the building it became apparent that pictures would be taken. Some of the mothers were angry that they hadn't been forewarned. Some of the girls were crying. Mirrium just looked stunned.

"I wished I had known," Mirrium whispered.

Celeste didn't say it, but she couldn't help but think that no amount of time or effort could transform Mirrium into a desirable candidate for Maxon's wife.

"Are you ready?" The photographer asked her when it was her turn.

She arched an eyebrow. "Of course." She offered a smile to the camera, and let him capture her image.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: The Announcement**

Celeste sniffed as she toyed with the foie gras on her china plate with a delicate silver spoon. She wasn't hungry. The untidy knots taking root in her stomach distracted her from the evening meal. They had been distracting her all day.

A shuffling sound in the corner of the room drew her notice and Celeste turned her eyes to her maid, who was fidgeting in the corner.

"Spit it out," Celeste hissed. "You've been dancing around all day."

Her maid took a long slow breath, clearly uncertain whether she should speak. "I was hoping that if you were finished with me, you would allow me to return home early this evening. My sister, you see, I'd like to be there with her to watch the broadcast. She entered the lottery, and our parents weren't able to take the evening off."

Her maid probably didn't intend it, but her words knifed Celeste through the gut. Celeste knew that she would be alone tonight. Her parents hadn't even tried to be home with her. But that was par for the course. She ought to be used to it.

"Do whatever you wish. I hardly need you. But, do try to be realistic. You're sister's a six, like you. She doesn't stand a chance."

"As you say, miss."

"Just clear my plate, and you may go."

She watched as her maid scurried away, feeling a pang of uncertainty. Had she done enough to secure her position? There was no way for her to know. She had tried so hard.

She had considered joining one of her friends at their home for the evening, but a broadcast of this import was something to be shared with ones family, and although most of her friends would welcome her presence, she didn't want anyone to know that her parents couldn't even bother to make time for her tonight of all nights.

In her bedroom, she collapsed onto her queen sized canopied bed, enjoying the feel of the satin comforter.

The large glass window that provided her with a view of the gardens, blurred and then became opaque, and a voice filled the room.

"Will you be watching the capital report broadcast tonight, Celeste?" the automated voice asked.

"Yes, yes of course," she grumbled. And the screen blinked before showing a display of the national emblem, while the sound of Illea's anthem played from a million micro-speakers positioned around her room. This was it.

The emblem disappeared and she could see the royal family on stage. The king, queen and prince were seated on wide-backed thrones, and there were chairs set up for various celebrity reporters.

The king appeared and offered some minor news about the war, followed by a reporter providing mundane updates on the economic and social welfare of Illea.

When they were finished with the formalities, the master of events, Gavril, pranced on stage, in his typical flamboyant peacockish manner.

He took the microphone in his hand and danced a little jig, before prancing up to the king.

"Looking forward to the announcement?" He teased, pushing the microphone into the king's face.

"Very much so, Gavril," the king said, with surprising grace.

"And do you have any inside information about the daughters of Illea?"

"Only a very little."

"And what about our fair prince Maxon," Gavril spun to the prince's side. "Has he seen any of the pictures of the beauties selected to be his future wife?"

"I'll see them when everyone else does," Maxon said.

Gavril turned his attention to Queen Amberly. "Any advice for the girls?"

"Enjoy your last night as an average girl. And be yourself."

Gavril chirped a laugh. "Wise words, my queen. Wise words."

"And now onto the main event. May I present - our daughters of Illea." He opened his arms wide to the wind.

The screen changed to a split screen of the national emblem and an image of Maxon shifting nervously in his seat. Pictures of girls were flashed on half of the screen, replacing the emblem, while Gavril announced their names, their districts and their ranks.

The names were a blur, and Celeste felt a bit of relief as the girls didn't seem so beautiful after all. And so many of them were low ranked.

"Celeste Newsome from Clermont." With his words, a picture of Celeste appeared on the screen, and the bubble in Celeste's gut popped in relief. She had been selected.

Hundreds of faces popped onto the left hand side of the screen, all incoming calls. She was now a celebrity. She let her mouth quirk into a bemused languid grin, and she laughed out loud.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Mommy Dearest**

Celeste's mother's face popped onto her screen in the dim light of a yet to be accepted call. She almost wanted to end the call before it could begin, but her mother had access to the house lines, so if she ignored it, her mother would be able to get through anyway. And then they would have an argument. Not worth it.

"Accept Madeline Newsome," Celeste said. Her mother's face brightened as it expanded to fill the whole screen.

"Oh, Celeste," she said. "I can't believe it. What a coup!"

Her father's face popped up beside her mother in a separate screen.

"Accept Arthur Newsome," her mother trilled, and her father's face brightened.

"Fantastic news, Celeste," her father congratulated her.

"Thanks," Celeste said, with more than a trace of true joy in her voice.

"It is surprising though, don't you think?" Arthur added.

"It is very odd," Madeline agreed. "I mean, so many of your friends are more accomplished and better looking then you are, I really wouldn't have guessed that you would be named."

Celeste frowned.

"It is certainly strange. Perhaps, they were considering our status. I mean we are very well known."

Madeline rolled her eyes. "We're actors."

"But my father is very political."

"I forgot about that. You may be right, they may need his support somehow. The country is at war. Perhaps you should talk to him to see if he was involved."

"I'll do that. Do you think we should leave our sets and come home? I'm at a very critical point in my film. Things will absolutely fall apart if I have to leave."

"I've already made arrangements. You need to come home too. You forget my parents. When I was selected, my parents didn't come home for the pre-selection interviews and preparation events. They were skewered by the media. It's not worth it - trust me. My father never got another good role, and my mother, well she never really had any decent roles before I was selected, and her inattention certainly didn't help."

"Oh yes, I did forget about that. I'll speak to the director."

"He'll understand. Sell it as free publicity for the movie."

"Mmm, that could work."

"And Celeste dear, we'll have to put you on a diet immediately. You're definitely the largest girl that was chosen."

"I'm not fat." Celeste was slumped in discontent, her frown now solidly etched on her face.

"Of course not, dear. But you aren't thin either. You will need to diet. The camera adds fifteen pounds at least. Some of those other girls are absolute waifs. And dear, think about your modeling career, which is in absolute shambles as I hear it. Being one of the selected will make your career. You need to show yourself off as best as possible. Lord knows you have little enough to work with."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Administrative Details**

Celeste's stomach burned in hunger as the weasel of man arranged his paperwork on the grand table in her family's sitting room.

"There are certain things that we need to discuss. As of Friday, you are considered property of Illia. You must take care of your body. I have some forms for you to sign to indicate that you understand these rules. Any failure on your part to comply will result in your removal from the selection. Do you understand?"

Celeste rolled her eyes. "Of course. I'm not an imbecile."

Celeste's mother placed a hand on her arm, trying to appear as if she was offering support. Celeste pursed her lips; surprised that he mother was making the effort even though no cameras were on them.

"Be polite," he mother hissed in her ear.

"I realize that as a two, you have access to vitamins. Do you take them regularly?"

"Yes," Celeste said in a falsely sweet voice. Her mother removed her hand.

"I have the results from your physical. It looks like you have lost about nine pounds in the last week. Is there a problem?"

Celeste's mother smiled. "She still has a ways to go, but we're on the right track. We're planning on having her lose another five pounds before she departs."

The weasel frowned. "She's at a healthy weight for her height."

"Yes, she is. That's what we're trying to fix."

The man's frown deepened and he made a note in his book.

"I need confirmation that you are a virgin. If you're not, we need to know immediately."

Celeste snorted. "I'm not stupid enough to get pregnant with an illegitimate child."

"There are black market birth control pills available to the higher castes. We are not oblivious to these things."

"Wouldn't that show up on my blood screen? Again, I would have to be ridiculously stupid to sign up for the selection if I had ever indulged in birth control."

The little man reddened, and he shuffled his paperwork. "I suppose that's true. I still need your word that you're a virgin."

"I'm a virgin."

"Of course she is," Celeste's mother trilled.

He handed her a form to sign, which stated in writing that she had never broken that particular law.

"The rules are very straightforward. You cannot leave the palace on your accord. The prince is the only one who can dismiss you. Even the king and queen cannot force you to leave, they can only advise Maxon. You will be required to stay as long as the prince needs to make his choice. You do not arrange your meetings with the prince. He will decide when and where you will meet. You may not sabotage another contestant."

Celeste twitched. She fully intended to sabotage the other girls. What kind of contest would it be, if she didn't stack the deck in her favor? She'd just have to be subtle. Very subtle.

"Your only romantic relationship will be with the prince. If you are found to be consorting with another man, it will be considered treason and be punishable by death," he continued.

Could she make that work to her advantage? Would any of the other girls be foolish and promiscuous enough to develop a relationship with another man at the palace?

"You may not wear any clothes or eat any food not provided to you by the palace."

She had such a lovely wardrobe; it would be a shame if she couldn't take advantage of it. And she would have to be careful with the food, her mother would not be happy if she gained back all of the weight she had just lost. Ugh.

"You will be courteous to the journalists who will be filming your life at the palace. Illia will be judging you based on how you comport yourself. Of course, your family will be compensated, although by the looks of it, they hardly need it. If you go to the end, you will marry Prince Maxon and be crowned a Princess of Illia."

She smiled. She was going to be a princess. That would make everything all right.

He gave both Celeste and her mother forms to sign. Celeste's form attested that she would abide by the rules, and her mother's form attested that she had received the first set of funds.

"Will you escort me to the door, Miss Celeste?"

"We have a manservant who can do that."

"Show him to the door Celeste, I think he has one more thing he wants to say to you."

"Fine," she said, rolling her eyes.

"There is another thing," he confided once they were out of earshot of her mother. "When you are invited to do something with Prince Maxon, you do not refuse. No matter what. Do you understand?"

Celeste laughed. "Of course I understand. You don't have to spell it out. I know how this is going to work."


End file.
